A Kingdom to End the Chaos?
by Ink Flows Into Power
Summary: Warriors from all Kingdoms gather together to make a country capable of ending the chaos raging in China. It is time for the best of the best to rule the land! Gan Ning, Zhuge Liang, Sima Zhao, Guo Jia and Diao Chan star. Others to be decided later. (Zuo Ci also stars in the beginning)


_Author's note: I do not own any of the Dynasty Warriors characters, (Gan Ning and any others mentioned) but the young noble and the Swordmaster are my creation. I should also state that I am taking Gan Ning's model from the Dynasty Warriors 5 installment. When I introduce more characters, I shall specify which model I will be using as there will be a selection. It is worth noting that I have no idea about the background of Gan Ning but I needed a school setting and only nobles got into academies in those days. Another note, there are probably going to be four prologues to this story as I need to introduce the four characters who are going to become the_ _chief protagonists. Other than that, I__ hope you enjoy the story._

**Prologue 1: A Quiet Gan Ning?**

Gan Ning had always been _different_. As a child, he lacked the violence and fire that personified his later military career. The anger that fuelled him began in his adolescence.

He was also a quiet child who was shunned by others due to his apparent shyness and the rowdiness which lay beneath. He found that he could not make friends with the boisterous children due to his initial timidity and the shy children were afraid of his underlying roughness. His father was a minor noble thus he was sent to an Academy filled with the best and brightest in all of China. Gan Ning fitted into neither category. He lagged behind in all subjects bar two - wargames and fencing in which he excelled. Ning was not the kind of person who is happy sitting behind a tower of history books in search of answers to the future, nor did he feel any particular need to express his feelings through the medium of the written word.

Thus the contrast between him and the other students was massive. The other noble children talked circles around each other, their words spinning a tangled and confusing web of subtlety around each other, with the aim of tripping each other up. Almost invariably, Ning would make some mistake, the other noble getting one-up on some strange game (that nobody gave Gan Ning the rules of) before he could react. Ning was as direct as an arrow and as blunt as a hammer. The most obvious display of this was on the battlefield. In the strategic war games the school offered, in which the nobles were armed with short pieces of wood and had to command various peasant children on a large field, the other nobles forged temporary alliances to crush enemies one at a time. Gan Ning favoured an open attack on his foes. More often than not, he was attacked by one of these coalitions, but he won against them as much as he lost. While his peers favoured strategy, he opted to use his prowess and force of personality to ensure his victory. It was during one of these war games that Gan Ning would catapault himself down the road to his future.

'My strategy was perfect!' the dismayed young noble from Luo Yang exlaimed in anguish, 'Yeah,' Ning replied, his voice deep, pure and resonant, not gruff and husky as it would become, 'but you forgot the most important part of being a leader. You didn't make your _men_ believe that the plan was flawless. They thought that you did not have the guts to lead them personally, thus saw little reason in fighting hard if you were so unsure of yourself that you dared not fight with them.' It was the most Gan Ning had uttered in years, and he instantly regretted it.

'How dare...I challenge you to a duel. Let's see you call me a coward when you are left in pieces on the floor!'

'Don't do this. I don't want to kill you.'

'Ha! No danger of that. I name you a coward and a cur. Do you dare counter me in the ring?'

'Very well,' Gan Ning said, tight-lipped with anger.

The proceeded to the fencing ring and both selected their swords from the rack. Gan Ning chose one that was weighted towards the tip thus allowing the blade to speed up as it was swung. The other noble chose a whip-thin blade slightly balanced towards the hilt. Ning knew that this would allow the young man the advantage of being able to switch between sequences of attack with more fluidity than him.

Both young men stepped into the ring and bowed to one another. There was no going back now. Gan Ning leapt to the attack, holding his sword backhand and aiming a long, low slash at his foe's legs. Ning's enemy was quick on his feet, however, and hopped back away from the vicious strike before whipping the light blade at Ning's exposed face. Gan Ning managed to block the attack with the handle of his heavy sword, then bashed the man full in the face with the pommel. he bellowed as his nose exploded, blood streaming feely from the shattered cartilage.

'Surrender?' Ning asked.

'Never!' His foe replied, simultaneously holding the top of his nose to stem the bleeding and swiping at Ning with the sword. Gan Ning blocked the clumsy attack and struck back ferociously. he used a series of backhand strikes then suddenly switched to long forehand blows. His enemy, injured and less skilled, had no chance against this onslaught and soon fell back to the edges of the ring. Gan Ning used this opportunity to smoothly disarm his foe with a contemptuous flick of his wrist.

Ning turned on his heel, victory was his. The rules dictated that if a person was disarmed in the ring, the disarmer was victorious. The noble was dissatisfied with this and drew his knife and charge at Gan Ning. Ning turned sharply and raised his sword calmly. The young man impaled himself on the blade. Gan Ning's regretful sigh accompanied the death rattle of the young man he had killed.

he turned again to see the Swordmaster, the boy's father, gaping open-mouthed at the scene before him. His son was dead...and Gan Ning was his killer. The man clearly had not seen what had gone on previously. Even as Ning watched him in horror, he saw the face shift from shocked to furious.

'I challenge you,' he breathed between deep anger-filled breaths.

'Sir, your son atta-'

'GET IN THE RING!' he roared.

Gan Ning pulled off his tunic before entering the ring - the last fight had drenched him in sweat. His sixteen year old chest lacked the tattoos he was famous for in later life and his body lacked much of the muscle he developed over the course of his military career. Having said that, he was one of the strongest people in his class, and it showed on his body.

His foe drew his weapon from the holster on his hip. It had a long, black blade and a curve designed to make attacks more powerful. The weapon was wafer thin, this designed to make it faster and allow. All in all, it was a formidable weapon. Ning desired it from the moment he laid eyes on it. His foe clearly valued it greatly as well, it was meticulously clean and frighteningly sharp. The men both bowed, before the Swordmaster attacked. The sword seemed to be everywhere at once, and Gan Ning had trouble keeping up with it with his eyes, much less his sword. He fended off the furious assault, but lost ground swiftly. The blows came had and fast, and Ning could not hope to beat the foe.

The Swordmaster's eyes were alive with anger, sparkling with hatred. His sword flashed at Ning's face, causing him to jump backwards to dodge. Time slowed down as he reached an epiphany: anger was the key to victory. It was the Swordmaster's anger that allowed him to dominate the fight, and it was that same anger that frightened Ning, causing him to be slower, weaker than the older man.

As soon as he saw that, he forced anger to fill him, flooding into his aching arms, setting them ablaze once again and restoring function to tired muscles. Fury at the stupidity of the young noble who could not just _surrender_. Fury at his father who just wouldn't listen. Fury at himself for being weak. His anger kick-started his mind, restoring his reactions and leading him to strike first. His blade lashed out at the older man and caught him unawares. The blade nicked the man's arm, drawing a pained grunt from him. His foe struck back, slamming the pommel of his sword into Gan Ning's exposed neck. Pain exploded into his throat. Breathing ached. He leapt backwards, desperately buying time. Once again, the Swordmaster had shown him that anger was the key. He converted the agony into fury, before unleashing it upon the man, coughing all the while.

Surprise flickered across the man's face, quickly repressed. It was enough though, Ning had his opening. he launched into a series of backhanded and forehanded attacks, forcing the older man to retreat. He managed to pin his foe's weapon to the ground. He then punched the man's wrist, sending the blade clattering across the ground.

All the students present gasped in shock. A single pair of hands began clapping. Ning glanced up to see the aged face of the Academy's Grandmaster smiling down at him. Suddenly tiredness and pain, such _pain, _crashed down on him. It left him panting on the floor. The Grandmaster offered his wrinkled hand to help him up. He took it, surprised by the strength in the thin arms._  
_

A coarse voice pierced the silence, 'He killed my son! I want him _out _of this Academy!'

'No,' came the instantaneous reply. 'Your son challenged him, then when he lost, tried to stab him in the back. If anyone's to be punished its you. You should never have challenged a pupil. You know that it is against our rules.'

The Swordmaster hung his head in shame. The Grandmaster continued, 'I think that a fitting punishment is to surrender your weapon Gan Ning here,' he said calmly.

'What?! Never! I will fight any who try to take it from me'

'You have already lost your weapon here today, must you lose your life as well. It is I who will take it from you.'

The man grunted in anger...then handed the beautiful weapon to Gan Ning. As soon as the handle touched his skin, fireworks exploded in his mind. His arm felt warm and cold at the same time, and he knew that it fitted there. It was his, it had always been his and it would always be _his._

The old man looked pleased, and turned to go back to the Academy proper. Suddenly, a question burned in Ning's mind.

'How did you know my name?'

The old man chucked and said, 'I am Zuo Ci...there's little I don't know.'


End file.
